And That Was Enough
by TheLittleWhiteRabbit
Summary: The Boss bites off too much to chew. Angel helps make it just a little better. (Set Pre SR3 ending. Light mentions of sexual assault and usual In-game language.)


It had been an average enough night, the boss had been sat just talking and drinking when her phone had gone off. She had passed the bottle over to Pierce and answered it, rolling her eyes as the caller rambled about their plan to teach the Luchadores a lesson. She had smiled apologetically, her smile more smirk then anything else, at the assembled group before standing up and making her way to the garage. Grumbles following her with a few swears muttered in Spanish for variety. It had been just a regular job. But that didn't explain the rain soaked woman making a large puddle in the middle of the De Lamuerte Gym, with what looked suspiciously like tears in her eyes.  
>Angel had wordless grabbed a dusty first aid kit from the backroom and sat with her, seeing to the many scraps and bruises covering her, a particularly angry bruise blooming purple high on her cheekbone. "What happened?" Angel had muttered, still concentrating on cleaning a nasty cut on the gang member's shoulder. "Tequila and more Luchadors then common sense. I'm fine, just a bit banged up. Took a last minute dive into a wall. They are harder then they look." She had laughed, it coming out forced and awkward, lacking the usual fire, and lets be honest, colourful language that the boss used. Angel had nodded, It made him angry to see her obviously suffering and refusing to admit why. It made him want to hurt whoever had caused such harm. But that was best ignored for the time being. She had nodded her thanks, dark orange spikes bobbing with the movement. And that had been the last of it, or so it seemed.<br>The boss had called him the next day, obviously high, excitingly explaining the predicament her and Zimos had gotten into. He had gruffly replied that he'd be there soon, shaking his head at the clock on the wall which barely reached 10. Usually the eccentric boss waited til at least lunchtime before cracking out the alcohol nevermind anything stronger.  
>When he had finally gotten there he had mutely joined the fight, shooting a nearby Decker before turning to receive a dopey smile from the Saint's tattoo covered boss, the headlights from an incoming car catching on her many piercings. After that they had little time to talk, between what appeared to be every Decker in Steelport tailing them through the already chaotic streets to the boss losing control of her motorbike and crashing them off a bridge, much to her amusement. Once they had made it back to one of the Saint's many crips and dried off, Zimos having left Explaining that his 'babies' needed him. The Deckers had cleared off not that long before, having finally gotten the hint that Angel was fucking <em>done<em> and no amount of twirling hammer toting women were going to change that. The boss had been quiet since they had arrived, her high seeming replaced with overwhelming silence. She was sat on the couch facing the window, towel drying her short hair, scolding at nothing. Angel sat next to her, checking over the gun sat on his lap for lack of anything else to do. Usually this was when he left, having been with the boss a little over 3 hours. But something was stopping him. The boss was reckless most days, hell even careless sometimes. But never quite to the extent she had been today. He turned to her, opening his mouth to say something when she had stood up, ultimately cutting him off. "I better go, make sure Pierce and Zimos haven't thrown anymore parties..." So he had left, irritated and full of questions.

"What?" He hadn't meant to sound so snappish, but after almost a week of the Boss dragging him out to do the smallest thing, from helping her find drug packages and sex dolls ("They're collectibles!" "Sure they are.") to Going shopping (the boss had just joked and avoided the question when Angel had inquired why she needed someone with her at all times) he was tired and 2am was a shitty time to phone someone anyway. But then Pierce had explained that the boss was MIA and Angel was up and out of bed before you could say 'Vete a la verga culero'.

So here he was, at what was quickly becoming 3am, searching for a particularly childish gang leader. Kinzie had texted him not that long ago saying she had managed to trace the Boss' phone to an alley not far from what just happened to be the Boss' prefered bar. Angel sighed before parking the car and walking towards what smelt like a distillery. The sound of a bottle being smashed rang out through the alley, making Angel instinctively clench his fists, readying for a fight. The sight that greeted him once he had made it around a large dumpster made the feeling whoosh out of him. The boss was there, her head leaning against the brick wall behind her back, angry tears streaming down her face. Angel just stood there, unsure what to do, before she threw another bottle to connect against the wall. "oh hey Angelll, wassuppp?" The gang leader slurred, almost frowning as if the words were just too difficult to comprehend. "What happened?" He continued to look her over, making sure she wasn't injured.  
>"Nothinnnn', was just thinkin' of ya. You know that night? I stood in your gym, all beaten up and weepy, lookin' for all the world like a pinche puta." She looked up at him, almost banging her head against the wall in the movement hiccupping in the silence. Angel just nodded at her. "Did I tell ya why I was all smashed up and practically cryin'? That call I got, wasn't no plan to kill some luchadores, pfft I wish. Nah I got there and the pinche bastardos just grabbed me and just took and took..." She stopped, the tears coming back in full force, her fist connecting with dumpster next to her. And suddenly it clicked, and all Angel saw was pure angry <em>red<em>. Anger practically thrumming through him, at that moment all he wanted was to make the people who had caused this to _hurt_. And then he looked down at his Saint and all he wanted to do was hold her, to make everything fine (he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to.)  
>Instead he sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and letting her cry. Letting her tears soak through his hoody.<br>After what seemed like hours, she stood up. Angel moving with her, he looked at the Saint and pulled her close to him, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. She looked at him and smiled softly in thanks before wrapping an ink covered arm around his waist, seeming so much smaller then usual.  
>They had made it to Angels gym before the need for anymore words had arisen. "C-could I maybe stay here for tonight?" The boss had stuttered out, Angel almost laughed, after he had taken her here she honestly thought he was just gonna send her off to make her own way to the Saints HQ.<br>He nodded before moving to the backroom, his saint following not far behind him. He watched her take off her sneakers before tossing her an oversized T-shirt. He turned as she quickly changed into it before he gestured at the bed. Once she was settled and covered in the blankets he sat down on the floor, back pressed against the side of the bed. He looked up at the gang leader, she stared back before dropping a hand out from under the blanket and he wrapped his own hand around hers. She smiled at him before her eyes slid closed, sleep overcoming them both as soon as they had settled. The exhaustion they hadn't realized was there rushing into them.  
>It may not be better, it may not ever be better but right now, curled up in the backroom of a lousy gym everything with her Angel keeping watch, things were just a little more bearable for her. And that was enough.<p> 


End file.
